The house slept, but tension lingered in the shadows. Yusuf's brothers could no longer contain the thoughts that had been growing in their hearts. Every glance at him, every word of praise from their father, fed the quiet fire of envy.
One night, they gathered in secret, voices low, faces hidden in the dim light of the moon filtering through the windows.
"He thinks he is better than us," whispered one.
"He is only a boy… yet he takes the love that should be ours," another muttered.
Silence fell for a moment, heavy and suffocating, as the weight of their feelings pressed down on them.
Then one of the brothers spoke with a harsh certainty that made the others shiver:
"We cannot let him stay. If he remains here, we will always be second… always behind him."
It was not an easy decision. No one wanted bloodshed, no one wanted outright cruelty. But the idea had taken root—dark, relentless, and seemingly inevitable.
They devised a plan that would change everything. A plan that would hide their act beneath a veil of falsehood.
The next day, under the guise of an ordinary walk in the fields, they led Yusuf toward the edge of the hills. The air was warm and calm, but the tension in their hands and voices betrayed the storm within.
"Go on ahead," one said with a forced smile. "We'll catch up soon."
Yusuf, trusting and innocent, walked a few steps forward, unaware of the trap.
Then, in a single, silent motion, they cast him into a deep, dark well, hidden from sight. The boy's eyes widened in shock and confusion, but the darkness swallowed him immediately, and the world above seemed to continue without pause.
When they returned home, their faces carefully composed, they showed their father the evidence they had prepared.
"A wolf… a wolf came for him," they lied, their voices trembling only slightly.
Jacob looked into their faces, searching for truth, but all he found was grief and betrayal. His heart ached, but his eyes, always seeing more than what appears, seemed to carry a quiet sorrow for the unseen paths of fate.
And below, in the darkness of the well, Yusuf pressed himself against the cold stones, shivering, but not yet broken. He could not see his way out, but somewhere deep inside, a light—small, steady—remained.